


Wolf Squadron

by WolfSquadron



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, Original work - Freeform, War, gay space pilots, sci fi, wolf squadron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfSquadron/pseuds/WolfSquadron
Summary: A sci-fi project by Abigail (@orions_beit on twitter/@setsailforthestars on Tumblr)Wolf Squadon Socials: Twitter- @Wolf__Squadron, Tumblr- @WolfSquadron
Kudos: 5





	1. Wolf Squadron Roster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep in the heart of the Cosmoverse, a group of starship pilots in service to the Cosma Conclave are making themselves known.  
> These are their names.  
> This is their story.

#### Wolf Squadron Roster

In order of rank**

Dreya Gem- "Alpha" _[Fang]_  
Allegra ni-Tenan- "Saber" _[Reva]_  
James Roth- "Rookie" _[Prince]_  
Y'scartes- "Blue" _[Alice]_

Rynti Aren- "Mammoth" _[Ripclaw]_  
The Everlight (both a name & call sign) _[Starsong]_  
Danai Senokir- “Rain” _[Oceana] [Voyager]_  
Derring ni-Tenan- “X” _[Cat’s Claw]_

Ho’Steanne Uriel Inski (Uri)- “Queenie” _[Kraken]_  
Suje Ra- “Pluto” _[Bloodeye]_  
Mirri’raya- “Pike” _[Bard’s Lament]_  
Taya Gon- “Rosebud” _[Shrike]_

_** "Call sign" [Starship name]_


	2. The Behemoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolf Squadron wasn't just any squadron of small Fighters. They were the best in the system, and like the animal they are named after, they knew how to wear down their prey.

####  Wolf Squadron: Year 5 

_When it rains, it pours/ There will be blood in the water_

"I should have stayed on that island," Dreya muttered, splaying her hands across the controls as she readied herself with a deep breath.

"What was that, Alpha?" Roth asked over the coms.

"Nothing, Rookie. On your left," she bit out and slammed a lever, feeling her ship sing as the wings snapped from horizontal to vertical position, pivoting around her cockpit on their axis, to allow her to slip through a small gap between his ship and the Behemoth Class Transport they were engaged in combat with.

Behemoth Transports were either easy targets or near impossible to penetrate, depending on how much money suppliers funnelled into the strength of their shields. Usually used to ship materials between planets, or carry goods to another system, their design was built around channelling money into a thick hull and energy into a strong electro-shield. However there were some companies, usually short range illegal smugglers, who outfitted their Behemoths with weapons, and that was what they were fighting now. A fight with an armed Behemoth meant a lesson in endurance, to wait out the generators required to power their weapons, and a lot of fancy flying, to avoid the turrets and laser beams. This was exactly why Wolf Squadron had been sent to deal with this one. Endurance and fancy flying was their specialty. 

If they could keep the Behemoth busy long enough for it to use up their power reserves and be forced to resort to backup, a choice would have to be made by the Behemoth's captain to either abandon the weapons or drop the electro-shield. Wolf Squadron had ways to break down an electro-shield, so they were hoping for the former. Unfortunately, this captain seemed more daring than most and was clearly determined to drag the fight on as long as possible.

Dreya knew that if it went on for too long most squadrons would tire and start to make mistakes. Fighter crafts like theirs were made for fast combat, getting in and out as quick and dirty as possible, and it seemed the captain of the Behemoth was well aware of that. What he didn't know, however, was that Wolf Squadron wasn't just any squadron of small Fighters. They were the best in the system, and like the animal they are named after, they knew how to wear down their prey.

"They've got to be low on power by now!" Y'scartes groaned, cutting underneath the Behemoth and out of Dreya's sight.

"Easy, Blue," she replied. Y'scartes was not known for their patience, but their marksmanship was unparalleled. A fact they proved seconds later with a cheer over the coms and the spray of debris as they took out one of the Behemoth's big guns.

"One step, one punch," Allegra quoted as she dropped in behind Dreya's ship.

Together the two of them slid underneath the Behemoth where Allegra settled her craft right in behind the broken gun, taking the opportunity to unload her lasers into their hull. The lasers wouldn't penetrate it but it might make them throw up their shields again, forcing them to divide their remaining power between the electro-shield and guns.

"Stay there, Saber," Dreya told her. "They can't hit you with that gun in the way."

"Roger that."

As Dreya came out the other side of the Behemoth she flicked her screen to take note of the rest of her squadron. Y'scartes had dropped clear after blowing the gun, leaving just Allegra, Dreya, and James close to the ship. The rest of the team was spread out. They flew in a swirling pattern, at times drifting close before dancing away again, in a well practiced maneuver meant to keep the Behemoth busy while the four quicker ships dealt with the guns.

Dreya flipped her wings again so she could flatten as close to the side of the Behemoth as possible and pushed forward, picking up speed as she shot alongside the kilometer long ship, keeping her lasers quiet in an effort to avoid notice as long as possible. Just as she drew close to the next big gun the Behemoth suddenly heaved into a barrel roll towards her, a move not even she had predicted as most ships this size were usually carrying cargo that shouldn't be tossed around too much.

She cursed and pulled up, thankful for the speed she'd gained on her run as she rocketed into the blackness above them, narrowly avoiding being clipped by a protruding arm, used to move cargo from the ship into the space dock's warehouse. Allegra wasn't so lucky. As Dreya reoriented herself and spun around, the display lit up in orange, alerting her to the damage her squad-mate had taken from the impact of the broken turret gun. Orange was okay, she could still fly with orange.

"You good, Saber?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the Behemoth as it finished it's roll and sent a spray of rounds at her. Thankfully the momentum of their roll sent the shot wide.

"I'm ok, Alpha," Allegra's voice came through after a few too many heartbeats of silence. "Gonna need an escort home."

Dreya dove forwards again, intent on distracting the Behemoth long enough for Allegra to get clear.

"Mammoth and X, get Saber back to base. Blue, come back here and finish off these guns. That roll was a risk, they must be getting desperate," Dreya grit her teeth and went back for the gun she'd been aiming for, dropping one of her precious few tiger torpedoes at it. She only had four of them and they were expensive to replace but she needed to be rid of that gun so Allegra could get clear. Dreya felt a slight jolt as the release mechanism snapped back into place and then the self targeting torpedo was off, speeding for the gun she'd aimed it at.

Dreya didn't stick around to watch it hit, she spun off in a barrel roll of her own, flipping around the edge of the rectangular ship and pulling clear again, letting her automatic systems watch for lasers while she opened a public channel. She'd called on them before and been ignored but now that she was winning this fight, the captain just might listen.

"Behemoth Class Transport Number 23764, this is Commander Alpha of Wolf Squadron, acting under the command of the Cosma Conclave. Cool down your guns and allow us to escort you to Derentius for questioning. You are flying an uncharted path in an unauthorized, heavily armoured, ship. Surrender, or we will be forced to take lethal action."

No response. A full minute later the assumed-to-be broken turret gun on the bottom of the ship suddenly snapped around, aiming straight at her, and fired a single shot. Dreya easily avoided it and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Lethal action it was going to have to be.

•••

Later, a knock at the door drew Dreya out from the cocoon of blankets she was hiding in. She jerked to her feet and touched the implant under the skin of her temple to activate her mask, then stiffened her spine as she headed over to open the door.

"Hey Alpha, Rookie said you wanted me to report once I was out of medical," Allegra smiled her odd toothy grin that always looked a little sad to Dreya, because of the way her fangs pulled the corners of her mouth down.

Dreya forced a tight smile in return,"I did. Would've come myself but you know how I feel about medics."

"You're not setting foot in there unless death is on the line. I'm aware. Lucky for you, I'm cleared to fly. Tore a chunk out of my leg from getting tossed around in my cockpit, but that's why I have three of them, right?"

This time Dreya actually did laugh. Allegra was one of the Portang, known for their strength and endurance, much of which had to do with their three muscular legs that lent extra power to their compact forms. Some also had multiple arms, depending on the region of their planet they were from. There were two Portang in Wolf Squadron, Allegra and her brother Derring, whose call sign was simply "X."

"Get some rest, Allegra. Thanks for reporting in," Dreya rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "You're cleared from repairs tomorrow, I'll fix your ship myself."

“You honour me, Commander,” Allegra bowed, her third leg stretching behind her in a gesture of her people that signified their trust in the person they paid deference to. Dreya responded by splaying her thumb and first two fingers and twisting her wrist in their squadron’s salute. 

Allegra lingered, watching Dreya carefully, but Dreya just offered her a smile, “Goodnight, Alle,” she said and then turned to head back into her quarters. She didn’t have the energy for companionship tonight.

“Goodnight Drey,” Allegra murmured as the door slid shut between them.

Dreya stood staring at the closed door for a few moments longer and then stumbled to bed, dropping her mask and collapsing into the sheets. She fell asleep quickly, exhaustion winning over her turbulent thoughts, and dreamed of the sound of waves sighing against black sandy shores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured quote from the song 'Live Like Legends' by Ruelle


	3. The Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Roth becomes the first member of the brand new Wolf Squadron and earns his call sign in the process.

#### Wolf Squadron: Year 1

_Let us go then, you and I/ When the evening is spread out against the sky_

Wolf Squadron had existed for all of three days and Y'scartes was already tired. Being given free reign to recruit from the ranks of backup pilots and new graduates had seemed like a great boon at first but it was turning out to be a lot more work than Y'scartes felt qualified for.

The law of the Cosma Conclave forbade conscription or transfer to a military branch without direct application by the individual. Each existing squadron had waiting lists and rotating rosters of starship pilots who had all applied and tested for their positions but the system for who got to fly most often was all based on reputation. Reputation was how the Cosma Conclave held power, reputation was how units grew in numbers, reputation brought in strong applications, and Wolf Squadron had none.

Dreya was half convinced that this was all ruse, an elaborate setup to prove her failures and humble her after the incident at the Hearth. Y'scartes had no such suspicions. They knew the Cosma Conclave would never have approved this much money being spent on a lie. With the expansions a new Squadron being added made sense and Dreya was a born leader. Y'scartes would not have backed her play in the near mutiny otherwise, and it seemed like it was going to be up to them to prove it to her. If only they could find some pilots worth signing on.

Y'scartes went to the backup pilots first, assuming they would jump at the chance of a regular gig, but even backup pilots had earned their place and benefited from the position as occasional members of their better known squadrons. Only a few would be willing to risk their place in line and take on the unwanted missions that Wolf Squadron would undoubtedly have to slog through. Especially when no one could agree on whether Dreya was a hero or not for her actions at the Hearth.

They had the opposite problem with the new graduates. As expected, they were eager to be considered, all desperate to start somewhere, but Y'scartes had flown with five already today and only one showed any promise of being the type of pilot Dreya was looking for. Dreya wanted clever, quick, and an ability to improvise without direct orders but Y'scartes had been able to target lock three within the first ten minutes while the other had been disqualified for leaving their allotted airspace. The fifth had been quick to turn back on Y’scartes and attempt to target-lock them before they could catch her, a move that amused Y’scartes enough to add her to the list for consideration. 

They were on their last recruit of the day and starting to reevaluate every life choice in the past month that had led to this point. This recruit had an oddly Human sounding name but his application specified him as Orimu and Y'scartes had never met an Orimu they didn't immediately feel hostile towards, such was the long standing rivalry between their people.

"James Roth," the candidate introduced himself promptly as he approached, seemingly unphased by the cold gaze of the Domini before him.

Y'scartes swallowed a sigh, "Y'scartes," they replied and tilted their head in the traditional Orimu greeting. There was disagreement among the Orimu as to whether it was polite or not for foreigners to present such a greeting, which is exactly why Y'scartes was fond of doing it.

This one didn't flinch but tilted his own head, jewels imbedded into his horns glinting in the evening light as he did so. "Well met, _Domi_ " he replied, using the honorific for respected Domini rather than ' _Doma_ ' which was used for those below your own standing, such as a student or lower ranking individual.

Y'scartes grinned, baring their sharp teeth just a little more than necessary. They almost liked this one already. "Your flight record is impressive," Y'scartes swiped to pull it up on their tablet's display, asking the same question they posted to each candidate regardless of the truth, "Well worth consideration by one of the more established squadrons, so why apply for this one?"

Roth's amusement was clear as he barked out the rough grating laughter of his people, "My flight record is middling at best but I thank you for the compliment."

"And yet you still graduated with top honours," Y'scartes pointed out, secretly pleased at the man's willing humility. Most of the other candidates had not commented on Y'scartes observation, whether true or not.

"I did. Believe it or not, being a starship pilot is about more than just fancy flying."

"Best not tell Dreya that," Y'scartes quipped, allowing themself a smile, which the Orimu returned.

"Oh fear not, I can fly fancy when I need to," James Roth's expression took on a confidence that put Y'scartes a little on edge.

“Show me,” Y’scartes stepped aside and swept their hand towards the K-20 Model Orka Fighter behind them. The K-20 was a versatile starship, capable of flight both under an atmosphere and without, the first ship any pilot in the Conclave academies learned to fly. Y’scartes hated them, but for the purposes of this first test they worked well enough. 

James eyed the ship with a look of distaste that mirrored Y’scartes own opinion but did not protest as he walked around it, automatically performing the mental pre-flight checklist that was ingrained in every Academy pilot. Y’scartes left him to it and walked across the yard, turning off the stealth tech of their own ship to reveal the deep black hull of the waiting Ilium Fighter, on loan to the Conclave by the Maria Republic. 

The X-Class was brand new, outfitted with the newest in Domini technology, and Y’scartes would never see another cockpit again if they returned it with so much as scratch. The test flights Y’scartes was performing today were both for recruitment and to feel out the new ship to determine whether it was worth the money for the Conclave to invest in them. Y’scartes had been a highly ranked test pilot back on Ilium before they left home and that was the only reason why they had been granted permission to use it today. Unfortunately with the four previous flights Y’scartes had not needed to work the ship too hard, but so far they had higher hopes for this candidate than the others. 

“All saddled up, Rookie?” Y’scartes asked from the cockpit of their starship, strapping on their helmet and opening up a com link. 

“Ready when you are,” he replied evenly. “Nice ship.” 

“Pretty sure one of my brothers built it,” Y’scartes replied, referencing a running joke among the Domini who had expansive databases outlining genealogies and familial relations, a necessity with such large broods and long lifespans. A Domini’s favourite pastime upon meeting another of their own race was to trace their connection to find out if they were related. 

James Roth ignored his comment, “Engines fired up, what’s the mission?” 

“It’s easy enough, a little game of catch and release. Stay within the airspace outlined in your nav computer, and don’t get shot. You have two minutes before I come after you. Godspeed,” Y’scartes had barely finished speaking before the K-20 tore down the runway and lifted into the air. They nodded and flicked over to their tracker, the hunt was on. 

As soon as the two minute timer ran down, Y’scartes lifted into the air. The X-Class had thrusters and as such did not need to take off in the same way as the K-20. As soon as Y’scartes was clear of the base they flipped the stealth technology back on and rose as high as possible to hide between the dark grey clouds that were eternally wrapped around this small moon, sweeping the area with their radar, searching for a transmission signal. They were pleased when they didn’t find one, that was the mistake a previous candidate had made even though every starship pilot should know better than to leave their transmission channel open when being pursued. Within moments Y’scartes had also flipped through a number of different scanners, once again pleased that the other ship was apparently nowhere to be found. This was going to be fun.

With a feral smile on their scaled face, Y’scartes pushed forward and released the pent up energy of their waiting starship, sending it screaming into a dive as they raced towards the mountains that lay south of the base. This was the best place to hide but a more dangerous choice as a pursuit here would require fancier flying, a perfect location for showing your worth, in this case. However, after weaving between the peaks and racing through the deepest gorge, they still couldn’t find the K-20. That meant at least that James Roth was not predictable.

Setting the hunt briefly aside, Y’scartes allowed themself a moment to test out the pivot of the wings, meant more for maneuvering in a vacuum but also useful in these tight quarters as long as Y’scartes maintained enough speed. The quick snap of the wings from outstretched to vertical as they rocketed between two close peaks sent a thrill through their body and for a moment they almost forgot their chase in favour of the test flight as they spun the wings back down and swept along the pass towards the open plains ahead. 

As they left the mountain peaks and the flight stretched past the five minute mark, Y’scartes quickly searched the rest of the training area and began to laugh. There, hiding in the shadow of one of the hangars, was a completely shut down and cold K-20 with one heat signature on board. They’d finally found their prey, but their computers would not let them target a ship while on base. This James Roth was a clever one. 

Y’scartes allowed their ship to be visible as they circled the base and then rose up into the clouds once more and hovered, flicking the stealth tech back on. While they waited, they admired how the stealth tech caused the nose of their ship to take on the look of the wispy clouds. Stealth technology was not always the most reliable and impossible to use at high speeds, but when a ship with a shield like this one was still, it was near imperceptible. Y’scartes was counting on that invisibility as they waited for the rookie pilot to make their move. However, when he did, Y’scartes almost missed it. 

All of a sudden, from an entirely different part of the shipyard, an identical K-20 took off and raced for the skyport. The cold ship was a decoy that James had somehow managed to set up in the five minutes that Y’scartes had been momentarily distracted. He’d duped them, but now the real chase was on, and it was going exactly where Y’scartes had hoped it would. 

No other candidate had realized that there was no boundary to the permissible airspace on the nav computer above the starport. Y’scartes had chosen the K-20 for the test for exactly this reason, hoping that the potential recruits would see that beyond it, the vacuum was painted green on the nav computer, just as the whole area around the base had been. 

“This is Blue of Wolf Squadron, flying the IL X-Class number 005, requesting access,” they said, hot on the heels of James Roth as he disappeared through the gate. 

“Access granted, Blue. Safe travels,” the controller replied in a deep voice with a hint of amusement in their tone. The spaceport controllers had been informed earlier of the possibility for this exact situation. 

Y’scartes watched as the barrier snapped open just seconds before they shot through and then snapped shut again right behind them. As soon as their ship broke the thin atmosphere they veered left, staying close to the shield that surrounded the moon and scanning their displays for their prey. They found him going the opposite direction and executed an easy backflip, loving how the ship spun on its axis around them to reorient, and then shot towards the K-20. Ten seconds later, they had target lock. 

Ten seconds after that, Roth maneuvered out of it with a backflip of his own, winking down at Y’scartes from his cockpit as he traveled upside down overhead. Y’scartes laughed and looped around, letting the other pilot put some distance between their two ships before diving his way again. The chase went on like this for some time, both pulling out all the fancy flying they knew until finally, finally, Y’scartes had a lock on Roth that he couldn’t escape, cornered at the edge of the permissible flying space.

“Welcome to Wolf Squadron, Rookie,” Y’scartes said, opening up his comms. James Roth made no reply except to laugh, the same deep and throaty sound from earlier that made Y’scartes smile. 

As they coasted back to the ground Y’scartes allowed themself a sliver of hope. Perhaps Wolf Squadron was not doomed to fail from the start after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured quote from 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' by T.S. Eliot
> 
> You can find Wolf Squadron on Tumblr @wolfsquadron and Twitter @wolf__squadron. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this please leave a kudos or come find me on socials and let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> Thanks for following along so far :)


	4. The Future of Wolf Squadron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time before Wolf Squadron was built, Rynti Aren came to Desdemona with a precious package clutched close to his heart. Little did they know that their future with Wolf Squadron was waiting there for them.

#####  20 Years Before Wolf Squadron 

_Oh be our rest, our hopeful start./ Turn your head to my beating heart._

It was a rain soaked day when Rynti arrived on Desdemona. There was nothing his species hated more than rain as it bogged down their wings and forced them to walk. In a universe where most creatures were at least twice their size, walking was demoralizing and tedious.

Rynti, however, did not care as he ferried his precious cargo through the rain and into the Elgrah embassy. The cocoon in his arms pulsed with warmth, in a rhythm echoing his own heartbeat, and he smiled down at it as he shook the rain off his wings.

"We made it, little one," he whispered. The cocoon pulsed again and he smiled. Desdemona was far from home, they would be safe here.

"Can I help you?" the Elgrah at the desk asked, her purple wings fluttering a greeting. A name tag fixed to her chest read 'Friela'.

Rynti spread his wings to return the gesture and walked up to the counter. He cradled the cocoon in his lower arms and used the other two to swipe through the documents on his tablet until he found the right ones, transferring them to her system. "Yes hi, I am looking for lodging. Here is my immigration approval."

Friela nodded as she read through them. "It says here you are a pilot, do you wish to seek employment or has that been set up?"

"I have no leads but I'm not in a hurry quite yet," he hefted the cocoon so she could see it over the desk, "More important things to deal with."

"Ah! My congratulations! It is a glad sight to see, there are not many young ones here," she grinned and delivered a file to his tablet. "This is the best option for housing for the two of you."

Rynti didn't even bother to review it before he accepted and made the transfer of credit to the necessary accounts. In moments the transaction was complete and Rynti was back out in the rain, rushing around the block to the housing complex where the navigation on his watch led him down a hallway to a door that was already bearing his name on its welcome screen.

"Welcome home," he said to the cocoon as the door slid shut behind him.

The apartment was roomy, stretching up further than he expected for the price. After a number of months in lodging meant for grounded species it was nice to finally be in a place that was built for his own kind. Elgrah built up, not out, and once his wings were dry he fluttered up the hallway towards the ceiling to take in what this place had to offer. The ground floor was wide and open, with seating arrangements and a small kitchen, above that was a large bedroom with a smaller one across from it, and at the very top was a small alcove with windows lining the ceiling and the north side, giving a view of the sky above them and the street, overlooking the entrance to the building. He grinned at the sight of it and knew already where he would spend much of his time.

The apartment was clearly constructed with a young one in mind, with a cradle for the cocoon waiting in the smaller room. Rynti wasted no time in moving that to his own room and carefully unwrapped his cargo, delivering the cocoon into its place with great care. The screen set into the cradle flickered and the gossamer lining of the cocoon glowed with a gentle purple light as a heat lamp came to life. Rynti glanced at the diagnostic signs on the screen and breathed a sigh of relief as it recorded that all was well. Such a frantic journey at this point in incubation was not generally a good idea but Rynti and his offspring had no other choice in the matter.

"Sleep well, little one," he whispered and closed the top of the cradle, "You're safe here."

And for the first time in many weeks, he believed his own words.

•••

Two days later a gentle alarm from the cradle in the dead of night awoke Rynti from his sleep and he rose from his nest with a generous mixture of fear and excitement fluttering in his rib cage. The top slid open as he came near and the light purple gossamer slowly began to unravel as the child within struggled her way out.

Rynti ached to lend his help but he knew this fight must be hers alone. After waiting desperately for what felt like hours, a small face finally poked free, tendrils of gossamer thread caught around a tiny pointed ear. Her eyes were closed and shifting with effort until she was completely free, laying exhausted in a pile of cocoon fragments. It was at this point when Rynti began to sing. He still could not reach for her, she needed to find her wings on her own, but he could make her feel welcome.

Tiny ears flickered, dislodging the cocoon tendril, and she turned her delicate face towards him. The impossibly fine hair covering her face and sweeping back where it got longer behind her head was a similar purple colour to the cocoon, her eyes large and milk white, and the little rosebud of her mouth was a soft pink. She looked like her mother, which he would not dwell on, but Rynti was pleased to see that as her nearly translucent wings unwrapped from around her body they had hints of a similar soft yellow to his own. Her four arms stretched wide and she stood on shaky legs, still watching Rynti as he continued to gently sing.

Finally, finally, an hour after the cocoon woke him up, those tiny wings nearly as long as her body began to flutter as the child slowly rose from the cradle and flew towards him. Her wings gently stirred the air and just as she reached him, they gave out. Rynti was expecting it and caught her easily, smiling down at the feather light bundle in his arms.

"Gotcha," he whispered and freed one arm to brush away a tear gathering in his eye. "Fall all you want, little one, I'll always be there to catch you. Welcome to the world, sweet Sari. I don't exactly know what I'm doing but I'm sure we can figure it out together."

•••

Twenty years later, Rynti brushed away a familiar tear as Sari's golden wings flashed, standing out in the hangar full of matching uniforms. She met his eyes from across the room and grinned as Dreya pinned the sitting wolf of the backup pilots onto her collar and shook her hand, saying something that Rynti could not hear from his position.

"Welcome to Wolf Squadron, sweet Sari," he said as she wove through the crowd to where he stood in line with the rest of the regular pilots. Rynti broke rank and gathered her into his arms. "We don't know what we're doing, but I'm sure you can help us figure it out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured quote from "Lullaby" by John Fuller
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. The X-Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the formation of Wolf Squadron, newly minted Commander Dreya Gem is tasked with escorting their brand new starships home from Ilium when a trip that was supposed to be idyllic and boring suddenly gets a little more interesting.

#####  Wolf Squadron Year 1 

_Here we are in the heart of the darkness  
You feel your body shake  
Feel like a phantom wait _

Dreya had never been to Ilium. Of all the places she'd traveled in her years flying for the Cosma Conclave she'd cut through the Maria System a few times, and fueled up or stayed to rest at one of their large orbiting satellite bases but she'd never so much as flown past the home planet of the Domini, never mind going down to the surface. For once she was excited about leaving the vacuum, as brief as their visit would be.

Dreya was being sent along for the ride to escort their X-Class squadron of starships home after the Cosma Conclave and Maria Republic finally reached their agreement on them. Y'scartes was supposed to be the liaison for Wolf Squadron but seeing as they were busy recruiting pilots from different Conclave systems, Dreya was sent in their place. She would personally be inspecting each ship before loading and signing off on it so that if any harm came to them before they arrived at the base, the Maria Republic could prove they weren't liable.

A ninety day trip, one way, for an inspection and a signature. But wars had been started for less than damaged goods and it was imperative that the Conclave and the Maria Republic remain on comfortable terms, for the good of the cosmoverse and its fickle, complicated politics. It was especially important when the cargo was eleven of the most advanced starships in the cosmovers. 

Dreya wasn't about to complain, she meant to use the time to become intimately familiar with the X-Class Fighters. On the trip out she'd read the manuals and tested the flight sims more times than she could count and on the way home she planned, with the help of the engineer being sent back with them, to learn basic upkeep and repairs as well as the mechanics of the starships' innards. Ninety days wasn't enough time to become an expert but it was enough to get a good start on it.

"Dropping out of the wormhole in one minute," the transport pilot's voice sounded over the communication system as he issued the final warning. Moments later Dreya felt the familiar lurch in the pit of her stomach as the Behemoth quite literally dropped into the vacuum of the Maria System. Dreya wasn't keen on wormhole travel, she preferred the warp capabilities of small fighter craft, but kilometer long ships like the Behemoth were not capable of warp speeds. She was glad to leave it behind, they were creepy to travel through. 

From here, the Maria System looked like every other system she'd ever been to. It would be a few weeks yet before they reached Ilium and as they traveled, she found herself watching eagerly for a glimpse at one of the elusive Yuspia. Yuspia were native to this system and rarely found anywhere else in the cosmoverse. Their distant cousins swam through the vacuum in the far reaches of the Aeranium system but they were much smaller and much less intelligent than the Maria System Yuspia. Dreya had spotted Yuspia only once before, on her last trip through Domini space, but unfortunately they were nowhere to be seen this time.

As Ilium grew in the viewport Dreya found herself spending more and more time in the bridge rather than her quarters, the excitement and nervousness about the politics involved in picking up the starships making her restless. She learned that the pilot's name was Rynti and he was one of the Elgrah, who were also native to the Maria System, though he himself had not been born here.

The Elgrah were equal to Humans in how widely spread their kind were, populating space stations and low atmosphere planets or moons in every major system. Rynti himself was from Otitis, a dwarf planet in the Florence System, but he'd moved to Desdemoa with his daughter to seek out a better opportunity and had found it in service to the Conclave, flying transport missions for the last 18 years. Rynti's daughter Sari hung around in the bridge for much of their journey, staring out at Dreya from behind her yellow wings with big purple eyes and an occasional smile. She acted as the co-pilot when he needed her and otherwise spent her time studying. She was going for an all access starship pilot’s license like her father had and a lot of this trip was counting towards the flight hours she needed to qualify. 

At the moment, Sari was in the co-pilot chair, watching Ilium get closer. Ilium was average sized as far as habitable planets went, smaller than Desdemona, but far more densely populated. Because the majority of this system was colonized and they had thriving trade agreements, Ilium's cities had grown without fear of limiting resources, to the point where they now wrapped around the entire continent. Ilium was both the name of the planet and the name of the city that had swallowed it.

They were expected, so it didn't take long for the Behemoth to gain permission to dock at the freight station of the largest starport and then power down. The pilot and his daughter, along with the rest of the crew, would wait on board while Dreya was ferried down to the surface for her inspections. There were so many starships and transports that came in and out of Ilium daily that it had multiple starports and a steady stream of activity passing through all of them. One of these transports was waiting for Dreya and in no time she was floating down to the surface.

They descended slowly in accordance with the strict speed laws. Dreya was glad for it because it gave her the opportunity to drink in the sights without seeming like she was gaping at everything. The towers and buildings of Ilium's cities were twice as high as the largest on Desdemona, and three times as wide; giant teeth of metal and glass waiting to devour her as she descended. Each building was coated in green, layered in gardens that fed the residents and kept the oxygen levels breathable.

Once out of the slow zone surrounding the starport, her transport picked up speed and soon they were zipping between the buildings, winding through the skyways with the ease of one long familiar with them. Eventually they got going so fast that Dreya gave up trying to see the sights and turned her attention to the tablet on her wrist, reviewing the protocols of the meeting and details of the inspection one more time, despite already having them memorized.

The next glance out the window revealed a massive building complex, so expansive that it disappeared over the horizon. Test flight runways and launch pads swallowed most of the space on one side, while gigantic warehouses and factory buildings covered the rest, meticulously laid out to make the best use of space possible. This was Ilium's famous Shipyard, where some of the best starships in the cosmoverse were created and built, where the first civilization to achieve interstellar travel had developed the very crafts that took them there. Beneath the mantle of this legacy, Wolf Squadron's X-Classes were waiting. The pinnacle of fighter craft, and her squadron would be the first to fly them.

Dreya's transport was met by two Domini in matching dark uniforms, one of them with deep green scales like Y'scartes, the other with yellow.

"Welcome to Ilium, Commander," the one who reminded her of Y'scartes said, "I am Dante, a citizen of Ilium, and this is Ruelle, a daughter of Exodom. We welcome you to our soil, our air is yours to breathe."

"Well met, Dante and Ruelle. I am Dreya Gem, a daughter of the Cosma Conclave. I bring with me the greetings of the Conclave, as well as your cousin Y'scartes who regrets they could not make the trip in my stead. I am honoured to be welcome here."

The pair of Domini twitched their tails in unison, a gesture of recognition at the mention of Y'scartes who was well known at the Shipyard as they'd been a test pilot here for a long time before leaving Ilium. They were likely not actually related but Domini bloodlines were so convoluted that they all simply referred to each other as cousins. 

Domini were also a fiercely loyal species and held each other in the highest regard, so that anywhere a Domini went they would have protection, even if they'd never met, such was their respect for each other. Y'scartes often said that because the Domini spent centuries fighting against each other, and finally realized the futility of it all, they now upheld respect for their own kind as the highest of virtues. Respect for everyone else, however, was conditional, and although Dreya came with the power of the Conclave behind her, she knew her friendship with Y'scartes secretly held more weight.

With the official greetings finished, Dante and Ruelle led Dreya into a large hangar marked simply with an 'X'. With very little fanfare, the door slid open and revealed her squadron's ships. As black as the darkness between the stars, drinking in the light rather than reflecting it, and arranged in perfectly lined up rows sat eleven Ilium X-Class Fighters. The twelfth was already with the Conclave, being flown by Y’scartes who apparently had it named already but wouldn’t tell Dreya what name they chose. The official christening of their Fighters would happen once these all returned with Dreya and the pilots were given their chance to choose whichever ship called to them. They would then be revealing the names of their starship in the same ceremony where Dreya would welcome them to the team and pin their howling wolves to their uniforms. This was a private squadron event that would be set up as soon as they’d assembled a full team, which Y’scartes would hopefully have a lot more leads on than they had when Dreya left for Ilium. 

Dante and Ruelle flanked Dreya as she stepped through the sliding doors and waited at a respectful distance for her to take in the sight of the eleven Fighters waiting for her inspection. She had all the documents on her wrist tablet already but it felt wrong to just rush into it. Spending so much time with Y’scartes had instilled in her a lot of the same reverence for technology that was so instrumental to the Domini way of life and she wanted to enjoy this first impression. Admiring the beauty of them lined up side by side was as close to a religious experience as Dreya would ever get. 

After a few moments pause, Ruelle moved up beside her, “I will be the engineer traveling back to Desdemona with you. When you’re ready, we can begin the inspections.”

Dreya smiled her thanks and walked up to the closest ship, reaching out to touch its matte black hull. The metal was cool against her skin, the texture smooth and flawless. Each line of the machine flowed into the next, perfect for aerodynamics under an atmosphere. Her favourite feature was the capability of the cockpit to rotate in place, making barrel rolls or flips extremely easy as the ship moved on a pivot around the pilot with a simple flip of the locks rather than being all fixed together, saving the pilot from disorientation or an interruption of focus on their target. Dreya had flown ships that pivoted on the horizontal axis before but never one that could roll around entirely. Not only that but the ship locked together so seamlessly that a casual observer would hardly be able to tell that it was capable of such acrobatics. Y’scartes did a full demonstration when their ship arrived on Desdemona for testing and ever since then Dreya could hardly wait to try it out for herself. 

They were small and thin as far as most starship fighter craft went, thanks to the centuries Domini had to perfect small power core and thruster designs, so they’d be fast and hard to hit. Also, despite their small size, they had a surprising array of hidden firepower. The main weapons of this model were lasers but they had larger canons capable of holding up to four expensive ion tracker torpedoes, one of which could disable a Behemoth under the right circumstances, or follow another X-Class through most evasive maneuvers. The laser guns could also swivel in place to swap out for a gun that shot standard rounds with a simple flip of a switch. All in all, the X-Class was a nearly perfect ship for a small craft military squadron. Dreya wouldn’t have even been able to come up with some of its perks even if she’d had a chance to ask for them, and she’d been flying starfighters for over a decade. 

After the first inspection the rest went by quickly and unsurprisingly she found no flaws in their construction or operation. The operating test was her favourite as she took off again and again until she’d flown all eleven ships on a short route through the private starport reserved for the Shipyards and back down again. Like all ships they each responded differently, although only a pilot of her experience would be able to notice it. Each cockpit was of standard Domini design, with room for their long legs and tails, and would be modified prior to the launch of Wolf Squadron for the specifications of each pilots’ species. For Dreya, flying the Domini configuration wasn’t too difficult as she was taller and broader than a lot of Human pilots, so the test flights were still enjoyable. Ruelle, who rode along in the cramped cargo hold for each test, seemed to enjoy the flying as much as Dreya did. 

“Did any of them call to you?” Ruelle asked once all the tests were completed. 

Dreya looked at the lineup, parked side by side along a runway where they awaited transport up to the Behemoth, and shook her head. “I think I’ll need a little more time to get to know them. I have a few favourites, but the right one will choose me when it’s ready.” Ruelle nodded in understanding and changed the subject to comparing their paperwork until both were in agreement that all was in order. 

This concluded Dreya’s official business on Ilium. The starships would be transported to the Behemoth at night during the time of slowest traffic, allowing for the massive cargo transport to dock above the Shipyard’s private starport without interruption, and Ruelle would join their team aboard for departure the next morning. Until then Dreya was their guest and spent the evening being introduced to various Domini who had a part to play in the agreement and visiting some of the more interesting sights this area of the planet had to offer. She enjoyed a traditional Domini meal outside on the roof of the building they put her up in and then all too soon the day had passed.

The following morning had Dreya feeling surprisingly reluctant to leave Ilium. She was excited to return home to see the new quarters waiting for them on Conclave Two- the military base orbiting between Desdemona and Orentia that their squadron would be stationed out of- as well as meet the pilots Y’scartes may have chosen by then, but Ilium was so vast and interesting that for the first time in a long time she was enjoying being downplanet. Dreya felt comfortable among the Domini, probably from the years she’d spent flying alongside Y’scartes, and they’d welcomed her to their home planet much more willingly than she’d expected. However, there was work to be done back in the Florence System so her curiosity would have to wait for another time. 

In the typical efficient way of the Domini all other business was settled over the morning meal and she was in the transport back to the Behemoth alongside Ruelle before the first of Ilium’s binary suns fully crested the horizon. Ruelle was silent as she watched the Shipyard shrink until they were through the starport and docking with the Behemoth. Dreya stayed silent as well, giving the Domini her privacy as she said goodbye for however long her own journey would be. Once aboard the Behemoth Dreya tapped her wrist tablet to Ruelle’s to transfer a map of the massive transport and lit up the path to the hangar where Ruelle would personally ensure each fighter craft was properly secured before they left the planet’s orbit. 

“Welcome back, Commander,” the pilot greeted her with a smile when she made her way onto the bridge after delivering her small bag of personal items back into her quarters. 

“Hope you haven’t been too bored up here, Rynti,” she replied and took up a position in the currently empty co-pilot’s chair. “Where’s Sari?”

“In her quarters sleeping off whatever she did last night. She took the evening off and went down on a transport to enjoy the Domini nightlife.”

Dreya raised an eyebrow, “I’m very curious to hear what she found. Most Domini I know do not subscribe to the kind of lifestyle a Desdemona youngling would find fun.” 

“My daughter is not a typical Desdemona youngling. If I know her she found a group of test pilots to rile up and probably spent the evening stationed at a simulator destroying all their high score records.”

“Girl after my own heart,” Dreya laughed, making a note to ask Sari about that later. She was a bit young to fly with the Conclave but Wolf Squadron needed a backup squadron as badly as they needed a main one. 

“Are we ready to dust off pretty soon?” Rynti asked, changing the subject. 

“Pretty soon. The engineer riding along with us went to check the starships. Once I get the all clear, we’re good to go.” 

Rynti nodded but didn’t reply, busying himself with the pre-flight checks. Dreya pulled up the co-pilot display and followed along curiously. She’d rarely flown on Behemoth transports, in fact she was more adept at taking them down then actually being the one navigating them, so it was interesting to see things from the inside. From their months of travel to get here she’d become pretty familiar with the ship’s systems so by the time the call came through from Ruelle, Dreya was able to assist with the departure rather than watching Rynti do it all. 

Because it was still so early they didn’t have to wait long for the green light from the starport operators. As soon they got it, Rynti released the locks and activated the small thrusters, slowly backing the massive ship away from the planet. This was the most dangerous part of a dust off as every planet’s gravitational pull was different and failing to apply enough thrust could cause them to get caught in it and be pulled into the atmosphere, but too much from the powerful engines of the Behemoth would incinerate any surrounding ships or even damage the starport itself. This was why they were leaving so early because Behemoths were unwieldy and difficult to maneuver, especially at such a low thrust, so they needed as much extra space as they could get. Thankfully, and with all credit to Rynti’s experience, everything went smoothly and within the hour they were turning their face away from Ilium and drifting out towards the waiting wormhole. 

The rest of the journey through the Maria System was uneventful and borderline boring. Dreya spent most of the time with Ruelle, studying the X-Class fighters and how to fix them, spending hours in a flight simulator in the meantime. By the time the weeks had passed and the wormhole was approaching she’d taken apart and put back together different components on each of them, under the strict supervision of Ruelle who seemed pleased with her progress and understanding of the ships so far. However, the idyllic peace did not last long. 

\---  
“Commander Gem, to the bridge please,” the call over the ship’s comms interrupted Dreya’s re-reading of the X-Class’s capabilities, the hard note in Rynti’s voice lending urgency to her step and she marched through the corridors of the Behemoth towards the front. They were only two days out from the wormhole, floating in nearly empty space, what could possibly be going wrong?

Sari was strapped into the co-pilot’s chair when she arrived, yellow wings folded neatly and tucked beneath her, flicking through various surveillance screens in rapid succession. Dreya’s gaze was drawn to the movement and she spotted the problem at the same time that Rynti said it. 

“We’ve got company,” Rynti reported, as calmly as if he were placing a food order. The fact that both he and his daughter were strapped in with their wings tucked away were the only indicators that he was concerned about their situation. 

Dreya moved closer, enlarging the feed that showed the approaching ship. She recognized it instantly as a D-Carrier, often used in much the same way as Behemoths but this one was armed to the teeth. A pirate. 

"What does this Behemoth have for defenses?" she asked, antsy for something to do and casting about the bridge for some way to help. 

"Nothing but shields," Sari answered for her father, sounding as frustrated as Dreya felt. 

"How the hell does the Conclave expect us to defend this thing in the event of an attack, then?" Dreya groaned, syncing her wrist tablet with Rynti's display, checking the shield power on its small screen. 

"With respect, Commander," Rynti replied, still sounding infuriatingly calm. "We have a belly full of starships and their corresponding ammunition."

"The ships have not yet been cleared to fly, and we are still in Maria Republic space," Dreya said. "I cannot get permission from the Conclave for use of the ships until we pass through the wormhole."

"We won't make it to the wormhole if you don't do something!" Sari snapped. She threw the screen with their vector and the approaching ship's into the middle of the room and spun in her chair, making calculations with a laser in her tiny hand. "Full speed ahead will buy us some time. Their ship is quicker than ours but our shields are strong and if we can keep out of range of their guns, they may wait on the torpedoes until they close the distance."

Dreya was already out the door, keeping the channel open on her wrist and talking as she ran, "How much time do I have?" 

There was a pause, and then Rynti's voice, "Is an hour enough? Anymore than that and we will need to divert shield power to the engines to maintain our speed."

"An hour is enough. Keep us away from them. Commander Gem, out."

"All crew to defense stations. Buckle up," She heard Rynti say over the main ship's channel as she rushed towards the hangar bay. Dreya had never run so fast in her life as she did in that moment, sprinting through the corridor and barking orders as she went. 

When she reached the hangar bay, Ruelle was waiting for her. "Time to choose a ship, Commander," she said, gesturing for a team to bring forth the ammunition Dreya had called for on her way here. 

" _009_ is already fuelled up from our training session a few days ago. I'll take her," As much as Dreya wished to take her time choosing the starship that fit her best, the urgency of the situation determined otherwise. 

"Fate has chosen for you then," Ruelle flicked a hand and her team followed as she personally saw to loading Dreya's ammunition.

Dreya ignored the comment, she was already on the way to her nearby quarters, collecting her flight suit and helmet and changing as fast as she was able. 

"Commander Gem to Bridge, status?" she asked as she ran back to the hangar. 

"Thirty minutes before interception. Shields hot at ninety percent. Sitting under target lock but they haven't fired yet," Rynti replied. 

Dreya climbed into the cockpit of the prepared starship and fired through the pre-flight checklist. "Bridge, this is Commander Gem, call sign Alpha in the _IL X-Class 009_ ready for dust off. On your mark, Captain," she said the instant she had the all clear from Ruelle. The hangar doors slid shut as the Domini and her supply team vacated the area. 

"Copy that, _009_. Bay doors opening in 3-2-1, mark! Shields down for exit. Godspeed, Alpha." 

Above her the stars appeared through an opening just wide enough for Dreya's ship. She slipped through in the space of a merely few heartbeats, but even that wasn't quite fast enough. The instant the shields dropped to allow her clearance, the enemy ship, waiting with their target lock at the ready, fired. Luckily for their Behemoth, Dreya was expecting it. Her ship rocked beneath her as she spun on the horizontal axis and fired her lasers. 

"Nice shot, Alpha," Sari said over the comms as the torpedo exploded early, hitting the Behemoth with a lesser impact of shrapnel rather than explosive. 

"Be my lookout for me, will you Sari?" she asked in return. "Shutting off transponders and lying in wait."

On her screen the blinking vector of the Behemoth slowed as Rynti cut their speed in favour of topping up the shields to full power. She tucked herself around the far side of the ship and went dark, lowering her own power output to match the signature coming off the engine she was tucked in beside. While she waited she tracked the D-Carrier on her wrist tablet, paired to Sari's console while her starship was running low. 

The D-Carrier began to circle the Behemoth, shooting off lasers periodically to test the shields, well aware by now of their own lack of weapons to return fire and searching for the single gun that had taken out the torpedo. Dreya had no way of knowing if they'd spotted her ship when she first came out and allowed it to pass three times while she waited with her stealth shield activated, recalling everything she could remember about the enemy vessel type, and eyeing it for weak spots as it circled. By the third pass she was confident she hadn't been spotted and readied her starship to fire back up again. 

"Shields down to seventy percent," Sari updated. "The nearest outpost is at the wormhole, which is further away than our shields can manage at this present level of barrage. There are no ships on the horizon."

Dreya clicked her mic to indicate she'd heard the update but made no response of her own, too deep in strategizing to form a reply. 

"Taking a nap up there or what, Alpha?" Rynti cut in, a note of annoyance creeping into his voice. 

Dreya couldn't help it, she laughed, "Just a wink or two. Ready to dance?" 

"Born ready. I hope your other fighter craft are locked down tight. This might get messy."

"They're fine. Firing up," Dreya said. 

She shot out along the Behemoth's belly feeling like a rowboat next to a galleon, following in the wake of the attacking ship as it continued its orbit. Knowing she would be noticed as soon as the mass of the Behemoth was no longer between them she waited for them to fire another laser at the Behemoth's shields. It was then that Dreya would make her move.

"Growing up on a man-made base has one advantage," she said over the comms to keep herself busy as she tracked the D-Carrier, "No bugs. Imagine my horror the first time I visited a planet with an ecosystem and small insects I could barely see began their torment. The frustration was enough that I eventually gave up and stayed inside the barracks for the remainder of my time downplanet unless absolutely necessary. Even when I was outside, no matter how many layers I wore, those suckers still found their way to my poor virgin skin. I’m sure I learned a lot during that month of atmosphere training but all I can remember specifically are the bugs and the lesson they taught me: never underestimate the tiny ones…”

Ahead of her the shields lit up, deflecting a barrage of lasers. This was the moment she was waiting for. Dreya barely heard Sari’s shield power update, so intense was her focus as she pushed her ship to top speed and rocketed towards their attacker. 009 sang beneath her with the firing of the thrusters as she rose above the edge of the Behemoth where she’d been hiding and flew full speed towards the D-Carrier. The mass of the ship bristling with guns filled her view port and her warning lights lit one by one as the X-Class did its own analysis of the D-Carrier and alerted her to the danger she was in. Dreya ignored it all, intent on her mission. 

“C’mon baby,” she muttered to her X-Class, asking for a little more speed. Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes as she closed the space between her and her target. She needed to get past the range of their lasers before they could fire on her. 

Suddenly the massive shape of the Behemoth pitched upwards as Rynti sent the ship into a climb. Dreya’s computer registered a collision course, flashing red. She was about to be crushed between them. Dreya swore and changed course to match, narrowly avoiding the collision. A moment later, she smiled. The distraction had been enough to send the D-Carrier into a climb of its own, attempting to match the trajectory of the Behemoth, most likely taking any attention off of her. The D-Carrier may be well armed but no ship could survive a collision with a Behemoth. 

Rynti’s distraction was exactly what Dreya needed to close the gap. The second she was inside the laser range she threw her ship into a sharp turn to run along their hull, gasping as the X-Class responded quicker than she was expecting and nearly slamming a wing into one of their guns as she did so. Her hands tightened on her controls in a brief moment of panic at the back to back close calls until she forced them to relax, slowing her ship to match the speed of the D-Carrier and tucking herself in much like she had beneath the Behemoth. 

“Nearly nicked me with that climb, Rynti,” she bit out, waiting for her heart rate to slow again. 

“Got you where you needed to be didn’t it?”

“That it did.” 

“Well, what are you waiting for? To tell me another story? Finish--” his sentence cut off as the D-Carrier unleashed the full power of their guns, lasers raking the shields of the Behemoth in a spray of sparks. Rynti threw his ship sideways, dodging the fire as well as the lumbering Behemoth was capable of. They were running out of time. 

In her mind’s eye, Dreya pictured the D-Carrier at base model, stripping away its added guns to visualize the ship that lay beneath the modifications, trying to pinpoint its weakest point. She didn’t have enough rounds of her own to take out each gun. Their only chance of survival was if she managed to disable it, and the only way of doing that was either going for their power supply or taking out their drive and thrusters. The drive and thrusters would be a quicker job, but still left the enemy capable of shooting long range torpedoes at the fleeing Behemoth, and the power core was buried beneath layers of hull, protected at the heart of the ship, she couldn’t get at it from here. That left her with the third option, one she hated doing, the move guaranteed to stop the attack. She had to take out their bridge. 

“Sari, prepare to send out a distress call with our current coordinates,” she said. “Either they’re going to need a pick-me-up, or we are.” 

With the taste of bile lingering in her mouth, Dreya turned on her stealth technology and crept along the hull of the ship, watching as the nose of her X-Class shifted in colour to match theirs. She had no way of knowing if they were aware of her presence but at least this way she had a chance of avoiding being seen by their outer hull cameras. The X-Class responded perfectly, shifting and twisting around her on its axis to avoid collisions, while the cockpit remained level with the angle of the D-Carrier. 

“Rynti, warm up the drive. On my signal, full speed ahead.” 

Rynti gave no reply, but Dreya didn’t need him to. She took a breath, steadied her hands, and made her presence known. With lasers fired up she carved a path towards the front of the D-Carrier, unloading all the energy her laser guns had. It didn’t do much, other than taking out one of their turrets, but it was enough to get their attention. Then, she swung her ship around to the front of theirs, dead center in their view port, and charged up her ion tracker torpedoes. The Conclave was not going to be impressed when she returned without the full inventory, but if she didn’t do this then there was a chance they wouldn’t return at all. 

Just as she was about to fire she had an idea and instead, opened a public channel, “Unidentified D-Carrier, I am Commander Gem of the Cosma Conclave requesting parlay.”

The two larger starships were still circling each other with Rynti moving around keeping their targeting system busy and the D-Carrier shifting to match. Dreya locked her position to that of the ship in front of her and let the automatic system fire off the thrusters to keep her in place. 

“Parlay accepted, Commander Gem,” a gravelly voice replied but offered no introduction of their own. 

“You are targeting a ship on a diplomatic mission between the Cosma Conclave and the Maria Republic. Cool down your guns, or risk being hunted by both governments,” she kept her voice cold, emotionless. 

“Seems to me a ship like that offers great reward,” the gravelly voice sounded amused. “Never been afraid of the Republic, don’t intend to start now.” 

Dreya sighed and targeted her torpedoes, aiming straight down the mouth of their viewport. She switched her lasers to regular rounds and aimed those as well to maximize the target lock warnings they were no doubt receiving. “I’d rather not waste my ammunition on pirates, but I will if I have to. You have two minutes to comply, or these burrowing torpedoes sitting hot beneath my wings are finding their way onto your bridge.” 

“No starship your size equips burrowers,” the voice scoffed. 

“You’ve never seen a ship like mine though, have you? Do you really want to find out what it's capable of?” she asked. “Cool. Your. Guns.” 

A silence stretched between them. It lasted so long that Dreya began to form a handful of new plans in her head for what to do if her torpedoes did not succeed in breaching the bridge. She mapped out the locations of the guns she could see and tried to do the math to determine how many she could take out before they got her first. The results weren’t exactly promising. Maybe if she had another fighter craft or two to back her up, but she was the only one on board who knew how to fly them, other than Ruelle who had no experience with combat. 

“Target lock eased, Commander,” she heard Sari’s surprised voice over their own ship’s channel and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Get out of here. I’ll catch up.” 

“They’ll kill you!” Rynti protested. Sure enough their guns had swiveled, turning their attention from the Behemoth to her X-Class. She knew they wouldn’t fire, not yet, especially without knowing what ammunition she still carried or the makeup of her drive. Her ship exploding at this close a range to theirs could very well be catastrophic.

“Only if they can catch me first,” Dreya said, but stayed where she was. “Go!”

Rynti obeyed. On her screen she watched the Behemoth inch away, and then put on speed once they were far enough out that their exhaust plume would not hit Dreya. Once she was sure the pirate vessel was not going to pursue, she disengaged her own target lock and spun her starship around, aiming her nose towards the retreating Behemoth. She took a breath, whispered a prayer to a god she didn’t believe in, and fled. 

To her surprise, the D-Carrier did not fire. 

\---

Hours later, Dreya stepped down from the cockpit of her X-Class on rubbery legs. After leaving the pirates behind she’d stayed outside the Behemoth, afraid that their attackers were still out there, waiting for Rynti to drop the shields and let her in. Admittedly she could probably have docked sooner but it felt good to be in a fighter craft again and, once the adrenaline rush bled out of her, she was glad for the break from the dreary halls of the Behemoth. 

As soon as she’d changed out of her sweaty flight suit and back into her uniform, she made her way to the bridge. Sari was no longer there so she took the co-pilot’s seat and swivelled to face Rynti’s smiling face. 

“I can’t believe you intimidated a heavily armed pirate into leaving us alone, armed with nothing but regular guns and those damn torpedoes, and it worked,” he laughed. “You’re the boldest motherfucker I’ve ever met.” 

Dreya shrugged and returned his smile. She was surprised at that herself but she wasn’t about to admit it. Let him think she was more than just lucky. “You any good at flying fighter craft?” she asked instead.

Rynti’s wings were untucked now that they weren’t in danger, allowing him to flutter them in an Elgrah version of a Human shrug, “I can hold my own.” 

“Good. Your skills are wasted in a big ugly ship like this. When we return to base, I want you to apply for Wolf Squadron.”

His wings fluttered again, this time vibrating with amusement, or celebration, it was hard to tell. “Anything to get me off the transport beat.” 

“I thought you might say that,” she gave him a nod and stood. “I’m going for a nap, wake me when we’re through the wormhole. If there’s any more pirates, they’re your problem.”

“What, your nap in my shadow wasn’t long enough?” 

“Not nearly. Good work back there, Captain,” she said, already halfway out the door.

“I know.” 

His easy confidence made her laugh as the door slid shut behind her. She couldn’t wait to get back home and tell Y’scartes of her very first recruit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thank you for your patience while Wolf Squadron was on hiatus. Looking forward to sharing more about them! If you liked the chapter, please consider sharing my post on social media so more people can see it!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: @Wolf__Squadron  
> Follow me on Tumblr: @WolfSquadron
> 
> Lyrics from "Heart of the Darkness" by Tommee Profitt


	6. The Ocean's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neighbors to the Cosma Conclave, but vehemently not a part of it, the Florence System is recovering after years of being ravaged by other systems' wars. This story brings us to Cygnus, the second planet from their reddened twin suns, populated by the Aquam who live beneath the vast seas and the Humans who settled on the small stretches of land- welcomed by the Aquam because the planet reminded them of Earth. In the middle of the night as the second of the three moons is rising above the ocean, a young woman named Emi is called to the sea...

#####  Wolf Squadron: Year 5 

_She dwelt among the untrodden ways/ Beside the springs of Dove,/ A Maid whom there were none to praise/ And very few to love_

The waves were whispering her name. She could hear it from her seaside home and allowed the siren song to pull her out of bed and draw her barefoot into the shallows where her destiny awaited. There the Aquant carried her away, the tone of their song turning urgent as she drifted across the dark waters in a small rowboat, being pulled along by her sea dwelling friends. 

"The pilot, the pilot, save the pilot," they urged her as her boat rocked against the shore of a tiny island in the middle of the inland sea.

Emi hardly felt the cold as she pulled her boat ashore and turned to take in the breathtaking sight before her. An X-Class Illium Fighter lay sprawled across the black sand, inches away from being swallowed by the waves. It was the kind of ship an engineer like her could only dream of working on, the starship that she flew in her dreams but never expected to see up close. Illium Fighters didn't come here, to this tiny planet in the backwaters of the galaxy. They belong in the middle systems, they belonged in the stories, they belonged in the stars.

"The pilot! The pilot!" the Aquant's song deposited her back in reality and she ran across the beach, heedless of the pebbles underfoot.

Once she got closer she could see the gaping wound in the wing and it wrenched her heart in a way only ship mechanics and pilots could understand. She clambered aboard and pried open the cockpit where the limp body of the pilot lay slumped across the controls.

* * *

"Emi... Emi... Emi..." the ocean was talking to her, the pilot named Dreya realized through the haze in her mind.

"Emi," she murmured in response, unsure of what it meant but somehow knowing it was important.

"She's coming," the water reassured her. "She's coming."

"She's coming," Dreya whispered to herself when a cold wind crashed against her warm cheeks along with the unmistakable sound of the cockpit creaking open.

"Who's coming?" a different gentle voice asked as strong hands lifted her clear of the pilot's seat.

"Emi."

A soft laugh, the kind that makes you warm, drifted in the air.

"I'm here, I've got you." 

The pilot gave up her fight then and let the darkness swallow her, fading away under the endless sea of stars, "Emi," she said again, letting the name linger on her lips as unconsciousness pulled her under. She would take care of her, Dreya could sleep now, because whoever Emi was, she was here. Emi had come, like the ocean promised, and she was safe.

She was in a dream. Soft lips against her forehead, strong hands holding her limp ones, the trickle of water being eased between her lips. And, when her eyes fluttered open, stars twinkling above her. Constellations she didn't recognize. It couldn't be real. There should be the cold blank ceiling of the medbay above her, or the hood of her cockpit, the inside of a rescue ship, not open sky. She had not yet earned her respite. Nor did she desire it.

Dreya had not stayed longer than a day on the surface of a planet in a long time. Doomed to the blackness of space by order of the Reyín Moon Lord, she'd been stripped of her privilege and sent to earn her own rank in the Cosma Conclave. A near impossible task in a system so large. Only once she had gained back her place in the hierarchy would she be allowed to breathe unfiltered air again, to return to Reyín and walk the glass bead paths of the Volcanic Ridges, to drink the clear freshwater that flowed down from the eastern glaciers.... but no, she would not think of it.

Wolf Squadron flew out of the main Cosma Spaceport that orbited between Desmonda and Samayum, the two largest planets in the Conclave, located in the heart of the Florence System. They'd traveled the length of the system and back, escorted flagships through wormholes to business with other systems in the Conclave and otherwise, sailed between the rings of the legendary gas giant Sienna, carried out endless missions, and even been granted warp travel privileges, what need did Dreya have of land? The weight of real gravity and the barrier of an atmosphere grew foreign after so long in a vacuum. As far as Dreya was concerned, she had risen above such things and now belonged in weightlessness. A child of the stars, determined to remain among them, no longer trapped below.

This was a dream. It had to be. Only in dreams did she entertain such fantasies. Only in dreams did she long for home.

* * *

The ship called to Emi but she could not go to it, not while the pilot was still in danger. And so the Ilium Fighter lay in the wet sand, waiting patiently for its turn while Emi nursed the pilot through the long night and into the morning, using what supplies the Aquant could bring her. All through the night she'd hardened her heart against it, ignoring every creak of metal as it settled or shifted, every whistle from the wind racing across its sleek wings, and every sigh as the waves licked at the sand it lay on, brushing across the landing gear. Time and again she looked away and focused on the slowly rising and falling chest of the injured person that lay before her, keeping the ship behind her. 

As the first of the suns eventually peeked over the horizon, Emi knew instinctively that they were in the clear but as much as she herself longed for rest, she knew she would not get it until the starship's call was answered. She tucked a rough blanket around the still body of the pilot and checked once more to ensure that they were still breathing and then finally, finally, allowed herself to turn. 

The second sun followed closely behind her sister, the pair of them setting the ship ablaze with their red morning light. Emi watched in awe as the black hull drank the light in, absorbing it with no reflection. It was so black that it was hard to see the details without getting closer. Ilium Fighters are rare and expensive, crafts built for stealth and speed and hiding in the dark between the stars as they await their prey, with the X-Class being the pinnacle of the whole Ilium family. Almost everything about them, other than their reputation and a few basics, was classified by a government more powerful than Emi’s would ever be. 

Her heart rate spiked as she padded across the black sand towards the ship. As she drew closer she was able to read a name etched into the side, painted in the same deep black and only legible from up close. It read simply, _“Fang.”_ An apt name for such a fierce craft. It was majestic, even with such a gash torn through it, she noted as she circled the _Fang_ slowly, searching for further damage and relieving her curiosity at the same time. 

Ilium Fighters were unique in that their wings were built on a rotating axis, able to change position from outstretched to vertical in an instant, perfect for flying in tight quarters in the vacuum of space where aerodynamics weren’t necessary. Emi could see that this mechanism had been damaged, leaving one wing outstretched as needed in an atmosphere and the other only partially lowered. It was a miracle that the pilot had managed to land without crashing, and judging by the grooves in the sand that she’d seen last night before the waves washed them away, it hadn’t been a comfortable landing. Emi’s practiced eye swept across the damaged wing, noting the trajectory and recognizing it as a missile wound. Hers was a backwater planet but even the outskirts had tasted war, this planet more than most, and Emi had treated many injured ships. She was better at ships than people and it did her mind well to settle into examining this one, especially after a night of unrest and worry over the unconscious pilot. 

The missile was thankfully not embedded anywhere in the metal waiting to go off, and the groove through the hull was surprisingly clean. From what Emi could gather, if she managed to fix the broken pivot mechanism this starship may yet fly. It would need immediate attention upon returning to base, but Emi was pretty sure that with a few day’s work it would at least be functional enough to get off the ground and into the blackness beyond. The problem was that she didn’t have any tools and there was no easy way to retrieve hers without alerting anyone else to the presence of an Ilium Fighter on their shores. The Aquam had insisted on secrecy when they brought Emi out here and she knew better than to question their judgment so she turned away from the ship once more and walked into the sea, seeking an audience with their queen.

* * *

Dreya drifted, eyes closed to her surroundings, hardly aware of her own body. She awoke briefly, but she could not tell where she lay or what skies she was under, she knew not what year it was or how long she’d been there. She knew the pain in her body but she may as well have been floating in the middle of the sea, empty and alone, if not for the and the soothing hush of a whispered voice, the gentle and grounding touch of the woman called Emi.

“Sleep, _leia_ ,” Emi’s voice came to her again and again. “I’ll be here when you awake,” she promised as cool hands swept sweaty hair from Dreya’s tortured brow. And again and again, she slept. 

Eventually real sleep came to her, where Wolf Squadron dominated her dreamscape. Always on her left, Allegra flew past and pushed _Reva_ into a dive towards a Behemoth, only to disappear in a cloud of atoms and shards of metal as the impossible weaponry of Dreya’s nightmares took her out of the fight. At the same time a scream echoed over the coms and two more lights blinked out on Dreya’s command screen as Derring’s ship _Cat’s Claw_ collided with Danai’s _Voyager_ , the sudden severance of his telepathic connection with Allegra stopping his heart and dragging him into the afterlife behind his twin, with the unlucky Danai in tow. One by one those lights continued going out, ships all around Dreya turning to dust, the impossible guns taking everything she loved from her.

In the next heartbeat Wolf Squadron was back, piled together in the common room of their quarters as they celebrated their most recent victory. Y’scartes and Rookie sequestered in the corner bickering over a game of strategy, Allegra and Derring speaking in unison even from across the room as they told the same story, Rynti tossing snacks into Uri’s mouth with perfect accuracy, and the younger ones pouring drinks for each other. The room seemed to glow with the light they all shared, the love and trust manifesting in this physical way only possible in dreams, as Dreya watched from the doorway, always the silent observer. She ached to be among them but knew her power over them came from her mystery, the persona she’d carefully crafted to keep her secrets, and so she stood apart as the silent leader but never too far away so that they knew she still cared. All too quickly the image faded, nightmares pulling her back into their grasp. 

She awoke for a moment, paralyzed with fear, stricken by a terror she could not remember. The gentle voice eased her racing heart, an adjusted pillow eased some pain, she drifted away again. 

A recurring dream soon came to Dreya, repeating itself like a droid with a broken circuit. In this dream Dreya rose above her station with violence and cunning. In this dream Dreya became the Warlord, the commander of the Cosma Conclave’s military and dragged them away from peacekeeping and across the thin line into domination. In this dream Dreya grew as large as a planet, stomping civilizations out with the ease of stepping on an insect. In this dream the Cosma Conclave reigned supreme over the inhabited galaxies, spreading the dark stain of war across all worlds and bringing them into the fold. In this dream millions died because Dreya dared to have ambition, because Dreya wanted to prove herself to the Reyín Moon Lord, and her hands became stained with red. Each time Dreya awoke from this dream, she could not shake the dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from "She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways" by William Wordsworth


End file.
